


Double Dare

by dogpoet



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-02
Updated: 2010-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-05 16:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogpoet/pseuds/dogpoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bluffing is a last resort. It's best when you're ready to do whatever you say you'll do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Dare

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s): Possible dub-con for the extremely sensitive. Also: a tad rough. Written for kink bingo "public sex" square.

Captain Pike never knew George Kirk personally; he only studied him for his dissertation. He can't say if there's anything of the father in the son when he first encounters James Kirk in a bar in Riverside, Iowa. It's hard to tell exactly _what_ Kirk is made of underneath the blood and the bruises and the foul mouth, but as they sit across from one another in the emptying bar, Pike is sure of one thing: James Kirk's only chance in life is Starfleet. Without it, he'll go nowhere. When Pike is sure of something, he stands behind it one hundred percent.

He pulls out all the stops. He tells Kirk about Starfleet's mission, and the opportunities he'll have there. When the kid just looks at him and tosses his bloody noseplugs on the table, Pike tries a different tack. "You know, your father was Captain of a starship for twelve minutes. He saved 800 lives, including your mother's. And yours. I dare you to do better."

Most people would feel some respect for that kind of sacrifice. They'd feel reverence. They'd feel humbled or inspired.

Kirk just shoots daggers at Pike, and says, "I dare you to suck my dick."

In that instant, Pike gets exactly what kind of underachiever he's dealing with. If Pike wants to have any sort of influence over this kid, he's got to show him he's got balls, and that he's not fucking around. Kirk won't listen to anything else.

Pike didn't get where he is by backing down. He's only bluffed a couple of times in his life, knowing full well the consequences of his opponent calling him on it. Bluffing is a last resort. It's best when you're ready to do whatever you say you'll do. Pike meets Kirk's defiant gaze. "Is that what it'll take to get you to the shipyard tomorrow morning?"

A split-second of disbelief flashes across Kirk's face, but he quickly suppresses it and laughs. "Sure," he says, swaggering without even getting up from his chair. "Except I don't think your mouth's big enough."

Without hesitation, Pike stands, steps to the other side of the table, grabs Kirk by the front of his t-shirt, and hauls him to his feet. Kirk is still somewhat drunk, and his reflexes are slow. There is no resistance.

"What the fuck?" Kirk slurs, stumbling a little.

Pike walks with him, half-dragging him to the men's room. He slams his hand into the door, and it goes flying, hitting the wall with a loud crash, and bouncing back. With both hands, and a considerable amount of his strength, Pike shoves Kirk up against the wall by the sinks. There's a nasty sound of skull on brick.

"Ow!" Kirk cries. "What the fuck are you trying to do? Kill me?"

Pike falls to his knees while Kirk is rubbing at the back of his head, face scrunched up in pain. It's easy to push his t-shirt up, and work at the fastening to his pants. Pike grabs the waist of the pants and the elastic of boxers, and yanks until he reaches Kirk's knees.

He spares a moment to look up at Kirk, whose eyes are wide. He's forgotten all about his bruised skull. His mouth is open, and he's breathing loudly. Pike wonders if Kirk will give in, if he'll say, _Okay, okay, you didn't have to pull my pants down, I believe you_. He thinks he knows Kirk better than that already; the kid is going to let this go all the way.

Kirk's hand drops to his side, and he leans back against the wall, his expression shifting to smug. _Go ahead_, it says. _Make my day._ His pelvis juts out slightly in invitation.

Pike focusses his attention on Kirk's cock, which is soft, the head barely visible under its sleeve of foreskin. He can smell sweat and musk and alcohol. A tangle of coarse brown hair meets the hem of the gray t-shirt.

The door to the bathroom opens, but Pike doesn't pay it any mind. He registers a male voice muttering, "Holy shit," before the door closes again.

Pike drags a slim finger down the length of Kirk's dick, from base to tip. The lightest of touches. Then he leans forward and lets his tongue tease the head where it's barely peeking out, lets his tongue slide under the fold of skin. And then Kirk is responding, his cock filling, the foreskin retracting.

It has been a while since Pike did this. There were a few forays back at the academy, but he's mostly bedded women. No matter. He learned by having things done to him. He engulfs Kirk's whole length in his mouth, then pulls off slowly, all the way, letting the head pop out of his mouth. Then he goes for it again.

His hands reach up to grip Kirk's muscular thighs. He drags his nails down them, and Kirk seems to like that. A guttural sound comes from above. Pike does it again, leaving pink lines on Kirk's skin, all the while using just his mouth to bob up and down on Kirk's dick. He pulls off, and looks up to find Kirk staring at him, not shy at all. A hand touches the back of his head, bringing him back to his task. He scrapes his teeth lightly on Kirk's balls, which are nestled close to his body.

"Fuck," Kirk breathes above.

Pike does it again, reaching to grab Kirk's ass with both hands. He squeezes, eliciting another vocal response. Kirk pushes his hips forward, panting, his cock pointing toward the ceiling. With one hand, Pike angles it so it's directed at him, and traces the line of the flare all around. He gives all of his attention to the head for a minute, sucking like its a lollipop, lips and tongue, his fist gripping the shaft and pumping. For all his bragging, Kirk's dick isn't _that_ big, but there's room for hand and mouth, and Pike gets to work again, applying pressure with his tongue as he slides his mouth up and down the shaft, his hand following every movement.

There's the sound of the door opening again, and quickly closing. Pike doesn't stop. Doesn't even look to see who it is. Doesn't care. Kirk is close to coming, Pike can tell. He slows down, purposely delaying the inevitable.

"Oh, shit, please. Fuck." Kirk puts his hand back on Pike's head.

Pike lets go, lets the head of Kirk's dick slip out of his mouth. He grabs Kirk's thighs again. Looks up at his face.

"Please," Kirk says again, closing his eyes.

Leaning close, Pike licks up the underside of the shaft, slowly, lightly, holding Kirk in place, refusing to let him move. Kirk's head hits the brick wall again, and he groans.

"I'll do anything you want," Kirk mutters, almost unintelligible.

Pike takes him in hand again, devouring him with his mouth, fast and ruthless. Everything's messy and wet. Kirk is cursing a mile a minute, shoving his cock into Pike's mouth on every stroke. Pike can taste blood, his own, and then the suddenness of Kirk's come hitting his tongue. He pulls away instinctively, the rest spurting onto his face and his fist.

He lets go. Watches Kirk's expression as he settles, as he opens his eyes, pupils dilated. Kirk reaches for the sink beside him, unsteady.

Pike wipes his hand on the hem of Kirk's shirt. "0800 hours," he says, standing up, ignoring his own pressing need. He turns and walks out of the bathroom without once looking behind him.


End file.
